Hold On Tight For This Ride
by Da Klainetrain Is Coming
Summary: Wes and David decides to drag Blaine with them to a strip club. Little do they know that tonight is 'Ladies' Night' and that Kurt Hummel is the stripper. Blaine finds himself very... appreciative of this.


**Originally from a prompt on tumblr, sounding something like: Innocent Blaine goes to a strip bar and Kurt is the stripper.**

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><p>"I do not look like… Jason Phillips <em>at all<em>" Blaine emphasized as he, Wes and David approached the strip club. He was looking down at the fake ID in his hand, a knot in his stomach. "What if we get caught? Look, we could get arrested for this!" he said. David laughed and put an arm around his shoulders, tugging him along.

"Look, Blainers. No-one's gonna put you behind bars for going out on a Saturday night. You're seventeen! Teenagers should have fun, or they'll rebel," David announced seriously. Blaine didn't dignify it with an answer, but he did snort.

Despite his worries, the doormen barely even looked at the small card, they just pushed him in, eager to greet the large group of young women behind them. David and Wes were both buzzing with excitement as they entered the dark club and Blaine internally winced. Some loud technobeat was pumping and the crowded room was humid and warm, the smell of alcohol and sweat in the air. He turned to his friends.

"Guys, please don't leave me," he pleaded. Sure, adventure was fun, but this was slightly overwhelming to his still very inexperienced mind. Wes put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, we'll keep close," he smiled. Blaine could faintly hear David yell something about the insane amount of women compared to the amount of men. He looked around and noticed it as well; there were women everywhere and almost none of the other sex. He quickly put the pieces together in his mind and realized that him and the others probably wouldn't be let in piece for long… not that his friends would mind though, surely.

"So what do we do, do we just, sort of… hang around?" he yelled, trying to be heard over the bass. But as he looked around, he noticed that his companions were gone. Panic welled in his stomach. He cursed under his breath and was just about to stride for the door when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Hey handsome," a feminine voice purred. "Wanna dance?" he turned to look into the face of a pretty latino girl, very pretty, but, well, a girl. She looked at him expectantly.

"Uhm, I…" he stammered and pulled his arm from her grip, searching for the words. "I'm gay," he chose. Easier in so many ways. A startled look flickered in her eyes, but suddenly she looked kind of…sly, actually.

"Oh, so you're here for Kurt. You're new, no offense, but it's _very_ obvious. Don't worry, sugarpie, he's not gonna disappoint you. He never disappoints."

Blaine felt very confused at the end of her rant. What? He looked at her before shrugging. "Actually, I'm here with my friends, but they, uhm, they left. They're somewhere in here, I think," he said, and the woman strained her neck to hear. She eyed him again and smiled slowly.

"Stay right there," she said. "We need to loosen you up." Then she turned to the bar behind her and yelled something to the bartender. Not two short minutes later, Blaine has a plastic cup with a golden liquid in his hand. "Drink," the latino ordered. He looked at the beer and shrugged. Well, why not? As David had said, he was a teenager after all. He needed to have fun. Lifting the cup, he made a toasting movement to the girl and drank. It was bitter and tasted like how drunk people smell, but when he sat the cup down, he could already feel a pleasant buzz in his limps. He burped and the girl laughed.

"Thanks," he yelled, smiling. "Have a good night!" and then he was off, moving towards the dance floor. Damn this, he was gonna have fun! Awkwardly he pushed into the middle of the crowd, wanting to disappear from prying eyes. The nice buzz was spreading and he felt loose and floating. Tentatively, he began moving his body, dancing to the beat, enjoying the pump of the bass on his chest.

It didn't last long, though, before women were pressing against him from all sides, grinding on him and making suggestive eyes. At first he laughed and shrugged it off, but, ugh, it was getting uncomfortable as his head got more and more fuzzy. Damn, maybe he shouldn't have drunk that beer so fast when it was sort of one of his first times with alcohol. Getting enough of the heat and loudness, he retired from the crowd, searching for a toilet-sign.

When he reached the smelly bathroom, he went straight for the sink and splashed cold water in his face several times. He ran a wet hand trough his, gel-free for the occasion, curls and sighed. He had to get back out there and find Wes and David. He braced himself for the loud crowd when his friends burst through the door to the bathroom, laughing and leaning on each other. Blaine scowled.

"You guys!" he whined. "Where did you go? I thought you said you wouldn't leave me?"

The boys looked up at him, slightly affronted. "'m sorryyy!" Wes cried, clearly drunk. "These really hawt girls asked if we wanted… if we wanted to dance and we couldn't say no, could we now?" he slurred. Blaine looked at him with a deadpan look. David cut in. "Look, we're sorry, we thought you were just behind us," he turned to Wes. "Wes, pee now, we have to be ready for the stripper." Wes tumbled into a stall.

Blaine's eyes widened. "What? Stripper?" his voiced chose that moment to crack and he winced. David smirked. "Yes, and you're gonna watch with us, gay or not." If possible, Blaine's eyes got wider.

"Ooh no. No, no. Forget it. I ain't looking at no strippin' people," he said sassily. Wes came crashing out of the stall and washed his hands slowly, concentrating. Meanwhile, David and Blaine were staring at each other. At last, David broke eye-contact. "Well, we're gonna go watch it. But you know, you can just hang a bit by yourself, if you wan…"

"NO!" Blaine cut in, panicked. "I mean… no. Ugh, okay. I'll go with you, okay?" he said. David grinned.

"Awesome, man. This is gonna be fun."

And somehow, of course, David made sure the three of them got to sit at the very front. Blaine groaned as he was pushed into a chair by his tall friend. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he grumbled. David ruffled his hair. "Aw, Blaine, come on. It's an adventure."

Blaine couldn't help but think that yes, adventurous as it was, he was about to look at a woman dancing. While she took off her clothes. And offered herself up. To straight men. What in the _name of the lord _was it that he was doing here again?

Suddenly, the music stopped. There was some rustling as someone turned on a microphone. The lights in the rooms were dimmed, and a single spotlight lit the stage.

"Hellooo everybody!" a deep voice sounded. "Welcome to 'Ladies' Night!'" the voice hollered, and the crowd cheered and cat-called. Blaine felt confused and looked at his friends. David looked slightly pale, and Wes sobered up so fast it was hilarious."What?" he yelped. "Ladies' Night? Does that mean…" He was cut off by the voice.

"Please welcome, Kuuuurt Hummel!" Once again, the crowd cheered. A familiar song blasted the speakers, and distantly, to his horror, Blaine noted that 'Dedication To My Ex' wasn't the song that he would have chosen for a male stripper (_what the hell brain, really?)_, but he guessed that wasn't really of any importance. A good beat was all that mattered.

And woah okay that was the single most beautiful man Blaine had ever seen that entered the stage. Lean and muscular, but not overly so, big, light blue eyes, long limps, and brown hair in that was very artfully disheveled. A dirty smirk was playing on his lips and he looked so confident and sexy that Blaine had to cross his legs.

The pale man on stage reached for the pole with one hand and pulled his body towards it when he reached it. He was wearing a plain white, _tight oh so very tight, _button up over a pair of black also very tight black jeans. His feet were bare and around his neck a light pink, silky scarf was loosely bound. He grinded teasingly up the pole for a beat before pulling away, striding to the front of the scene, meanwhile taking off the scarf and throwing it in the face of Wes. David laughed hysterically. Blaine kept his eyes on the man, Kurt was his name. Slowly, Kurt unbuttoned his shirt and there was a collective holler from the audience. When it was all the way opened, he shrugged it off slowly, rocking his hips to the beat. Long strides back to the pole. He grabbed it tight and for what felt like a very long time, he grinded and danced against the pole, swinging himself skillfully around it, showing of the rippling muscles in his arms. The song was longer than usually, probably because of some DJ's skills. At a long instrumental part, the beautiful man dropped to his knees and crawled to the front of the stage. Blaine felt his mouth water slightly as Kurt rose to his feet, popping the button and sliding down the zipper of his pants.

Blaine felt as if he should look away, but he couldn't, he just couldn't. The man caught his eyes and winked. He wasn't much older than him, Blaine noticed, probably no more than 22 years old or so. His long fingers fisted the top of the pants and he pulled them down slowly, twisting his shoulders playfully and pouting adorably. The audience cat-called.

And okay, yeah, so he was wearing very small, tight boy shorts under the pants, showing off a very impressive bulge. At this, Blaine blushed and looked away bashfully. When he looked up again, the pale man was walking towards him and Blaine looked around, wondering how that had happened.

The boy walked right by Blaine though, but he had eye-contact all the way. Instead of dancing his way to Blaine, Kurt walked over to David, and David's eyes widened. Without preamble, the stripper straddled his thighs and rubbed against him slowly, his hands on David's broad shoulders. The tall boy looked baffled, but in no way repulsed, on the contrary - almost on impulse his hands went to Kurt's hips and held on tight. Soon though, Kurt got off of him. Now he was very clearly on his way to Blaine, and the curly haired boy swallowed. The half-naked man ran his hand into his hair and tugged. Blaine moaned and the man smirked approvingly. He let his hands wander down to Blaine's neck and skillfully opened the pink pre-tied bowtie, bringing it around his own neck, and okay, that should not have been as sexy as it was. Kurt sat down in his lap, and even though Blaine was very much a virgin he felt the craziest want coursing through him. His hands went straight to the man's hips, holding tightly and squeezing. Kurt threw his head back and his hips ground down on his lap in circular motions. Blaine was very aware that everyone in that bar was looking at him, but _fuck _if he cared. A tongue licked up his neck and he shuddered. Too soon, the beautiful man got up and sauntered back to the stage, pulling himself up by his arms. Grinding one last time against the pole, he smirked down at Blaine and then he was gone behind the curtains. Cat-calls and wolf-whistles cut through the air and Blaine had to shake his head to clear it. David looked slightly dazed as well.

"Fuck," he said, and Blaine looked at him, surprised.

"David? Did you just swear?" he asked. David's eyes widened.

"I did. Shit, that was hot. I know I'm straight, but only filth would say no to that piece of man."

Blaine could only agree. The music started playing again, and people got up to dance. Suddenly, Blaine felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face a beefy man. Shit. They where busted.

"Hummel's waiting for you in the back," the man grumbled. Blaine felt confused, until he remembered. Kurt Hummel. He was on his feet in an instant, following the man. Over his shoulder he yelled for his friends to wait for him at the entrance.

His heart was pounding heavily in his chest as he followed the man. They went behind the bar, on through there and into what could seem like a place for storage. Further down the hall the man stopped at a door with a sign that read "Dancers." The man rapped on the door twice and left. Blaine shifted uncomfortably.

The door opened, and Kurt smiled at him. He looked much less dirty and sex…ish with ordinary clothes on, but he was still very much beautiful.

"Come in," the boy said and stepped aside. He had the voice of an angel, soft and light. He had a couple of inches on Blaine, he noticed as he brushed past Kurt into the room. The door closed behind him.

Kurt looked at him for a moment before he went to a small table with a mirror. "I stole your bowtie, and I thought you might like it back," he said, laughter in his voice. Blaine's heart fell a little. Oh, right. The bowtie.

Kurt held the bowtie gently in his hands. "This your first night here?" he asked. Blaine looked away. "Uhm, yeah…" he suddenly felt very shy. Kurt scrutinized him for a moment.

"How old are you, exactly?" he asked. Blaine, caught off guard, snatched his head up and looked at him directly. He didn't look angry, just curious.

"I'm, uh, I'm eighteen in two weeks," he said. Kurt smiled.

"Well, a grown man then. What's your name, curly?"

Blaine smiled. "Blaine," he answered, the tension lifted. "And you're Kurt."

The man's head fell back and he laughed loudly and free. "Mmh, smart too, I see. Nothing's getting past you, huh, Blaine?" he giggled.

Blaine laughed and played along. "Nope. Come at me, bro."

They were silent just for a moment, and Blaine did not want to have to leave. The man was so beautiful and charismatic, and he felt like there was more there than the sexy man dancing on stage. Straightening his back, he cleared his throat and figured it was now or never.

"I…Uhm, if it's okay with you, I'd like to see you again," he forced out. Kurt looked slightly stunned. He turned around on his heal after a second and fiddled with something on the table. Blaine stretched his back to see, but with the way Kurt was standing, he had to wait. Kurt stood back up and looked at the curly haired boy.

"Now, I don't usually go out with people I've danced for," he said, his voice slightly gravelly. He sauntered over to Blaine and pressed into his personal space. He was silent as he stared at Blaine's lips.

"I'll kiss you if you want," he whispered. "If you'll let me."

Blaine shuddered. Yes oh god yes. He nodded slightly and Kurt closed the space between them, kissing him hotly. Blaine moaned and Kurt pressed his tongue in between his lips, tasting and licking across the roof of the shorter boy's mouth. Blaine wound his arms around Kurt and held on for dear life. The hand that wasn't still holding his bowtie slid up and grasped his hair, tugging slightly as he had done while dancing. Blaine pressed closer to him, desperate for contact. But Kurt pulled back, looking disheveled and flushed and happy. He smiled.

"Maybe we'll meet again, Blaine," he said, still smiling. He pushed Blaine towards the door and the boy felt his stomach clench.

"But…" Blaine tried.

"Don't forget your bowtie!" Kurt exclaimed, pressing the silk into his hand and gently pushing him out the door. It closed behind Blaine and he stood there, feeling overwhelmed with sensations and disappointment. But then he became aware of something else in his hand, something that had a very different texture than silk. Slowly he opened his hand, and right beside the bowtie laid a small piece of paper.

Blaine picked it up with his other hand, turning it. There, in pretty, sweeping handwriting was a phone-number and a sentence followed by a smiley-face. The sentence read:

I love coffee. Take me out some day so I can get to know the head beneath that curly mop of hair.

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><p><strong>Reviews are much appreciated :) <strong>

**tumblr: daklainetrainiscoming[dot]tumblr[dot]com**


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